Seventeen Imagines

Vernon

It was a cool and crisp autumn day. Normally, days like this were days where people usually just snuggled up at home under their warm blankets and had hot tea. Or something. You wouldn't know.

You had always loved cold weather. Your skin especially reacted positively to cold weather, keeping it clear and bright. It was also a time where you could leave the house without sweating. You were sensitive to any form of heat or humidity, and tended to sweat faster and easier than most people. That often made you feel uncomfortable, but it was all good in the cold. Lastly, you loved the freshness of everything around you. The air was perfect for breathing, and the mixture of fall colours all around you set your mind to a state of peace.

That day, you had decided to bring a book to read at a big park not far from your house. You liked it best in the fall, where you could really capture a lot of the scenery in one look. Kids running around and playing in the leaves, joggers making their usual rounds, and young people talking with one another on the benches or reading a book. You happened to fall into the last category.

You already had your earphones plugged in playing calming music as you made your way towards your favourite bench by a big old tree. Problem was, it seemed like someone had already beaten you to it.

A boy (about your age, perhaps?) wearing a beanie was sitting there with headphones on and a notebook on his lap. He was staring at it with full concentration and seemed to be muttering to himself, head bobbing up and down along to whatever he was listening to. As you got closer, you saw him whipping out a pen and scribbling furiously on the notebook. After he did whatever he had to do, he went back to how he was before, as if nothing had just happened.

You were a bit bummed to see that someone had taken 'your spot', but you didn't own the bench. You couldn't exactly say, "Hey, go find somewhere else to sit because this seat is mine." Especially when that seat was like 5 feet long. So you just casually made your way to the bench, thanked God that the boy was sitting on the far left, and sat on the opposite end.

He didn't seem to notice you were there as he continued bobbing his head. Not that you minded, of course. All you needed was a little alone time. You opened your book, and was immediately captivated by it. It didn't last long though.

You felt droplets of water slowly dropping on you, and quickly closed your book and tucked it under your coat before it got wet. You sighed. You didn't expect it to rain. You didn't even bring an umbrella with you. You must had been in that in that position for a while, because suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Excuse me, it's starting to rain."

You turned and saw the boy looking at you intently, his headphones around his neck and notebook nowhere in sight. "You should get back home before you fall sick."

You got a clear look of his face. He looked like Korean wasn't the only part of him. And he looked awfully familiar. No, it couldn't be.

Titanic came out 20 years ago.

You must have been in a daze, as the boy waved his hands in front of you. "Miss, you should really hurry."

You snapped out of it. "What? Oh, yes, yeah, I should." You got up quickly.

"Wait! You don't have an umbrella, do you?" headphones boy asked.

"I don't."

"You should always bring one with you, you never know when it'll rain. Here, use this." He handed you a small green foldable umbrella.

"No, it's okay," you declined politely. "I live nearby."

"Still, you'd have to walk through the rain, which is something I wouldn't want to happen." He smiled at you. "Just take it, you can give it back to me next time."

"But we don't know when we'll happen to meet again." you justified. "I won't always come back here, and you probably won't either." The first part was a lie, but hey, sometimes you can't help but tell little white lies.

"Well then," the boy said. "How about this?"

He took the umbrella from your hands and opened it above the two of you, so you were both standing beneath it. "Since you don't want to take the umbrella, and I don't want you to be in the rain, why not I just walk you home?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"I'm not a bad person! Honestly!" He put up his free hand in the air in defence. He tried to put on a convincing facial expression, which you found a little cute.

"Okay, Mr Notebook And Headphones. But really, I just live down the road."

"Then we'll just take our time getting there." He said as you two slowly started down the leafy path. "You can call me Vernon, by the way."

"Vernon, huh? I don't hear that name much around here." You kicked a stone out of your way with your hands in your pockets. "My name is Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Vernon is not my real name. It's my mother's maiden name and my stage name. My real name is Hansol. You can call me that too if you want."

"Stage name?" you asked, not quite sure what he meant by that. Was he famous and you just happened not to know about it?"

"Oh yeah, I'm in a group of singers." He scratched his head a bit. "We just debuted, so I don't expect a lot of people to know us yet."

"I see. What's your group called?"

"Seventeen."

That name rung a bell somewhere, but it was too deep within your mind for you to dig out. "That's a cool name. How many of you are there?"

"Well, actually there's thirteen of us and-"

"Wait, thirteen? As in ten plus three? Thirteen? That's a lot. So why are you called Seventeen?"

He let out a long breath, as if it was something he was tired of explaining. "I think that's a story for another day, Y/N. You'll have more questions."

"Noted." you replied. You were curious, but you decided to let it go. You quickly changed the topic. "So that notebook you had with you, were you writing lyrics?"

"Yeah!" His face brightened. "I'm one of the rappers in the group, so I take some time off sometimes to write the lyrics of songs. Do we turn down this road?"

"Yeah, my house is right there." you said, but your mind was elsewhere. The more you knew about Hansol, the more you were intrigued by him. "That's pretty cool, being a rapper."

"I've always liked it, so actually becoming one is like a dream come true." His voice was filled with passion when he talked, indicating that he must have really loved whatever he was doing. You smiled. "I'm glad you made it." you said to him.

You slowed down to a halt at the gate of your house. "Well, we're here." you said. "It's been real nice talking to you, Hansol. Thank you for walking me home."

"No problem, Y/N. It was a real pleasure meeting you."

"Alright. Have a safe journey back home." you told him, but he was still standing there. As if he still had more to say.

"Go inside quickly and dry yourself off so that you don't catch a cold. And remember to bring an umbrella the next time. The weather is harsh and unpredictable these days." he said. "I'll get going now."

"Goodbye, Hansol. Thanks again!"

"No problem Y/N. But don't say goodbye. Who knows, we might meet each other again." He winked at you before turning and going further down the road.

You watched as the cute boy in a beanie under a green umbrella got smaller and smaller, until he couldn't be seen anymore. Something unfamiliar stirred within you. You felt butterflies in your stomach and a strong pounding in your heart.

You had only met Hansol today, but somehow, you couldn't wait until your next unplanned and accidental meeting.

Who knows, we might meet each other again.